


Let's Face It, Spandex is a Lifestyle Choice

by Ramen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, M/M, Superheroes, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-15
Updated: 2009-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramen/pseuds/Ramen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First rule of being a superhero: try not to have a stupid name. Second rule of being a superhero: start making friends fast--you never know when you'll need the backup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Face It, Spandex is a Lifestyle Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/deancastiel/profile)[**deancastiel**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/deancastiel/)'s 2009 Fusion Challenge, AU Prompt 97: "Superhero AU. Would prefer Dean to either have a really obscure or weird power or none at all." Much love to [](http://iambickilometer.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://iambickilometer.dreamwidth.org/)**iambickilometer** for posting the prompt in the first place, because otherwise I would've and then where would we be?

_Previously in **Eyes Forward** : Anna Milton, formerly Alseid of the Holy Host, took up a costume and started putting her training to good use when she saved Sam and Dean from an untimely end at Uriel's hand. Shortly afterward the Host, still believing Dean's keen eyesight to be superhuman in nature, captured him in another attempt to get him to join their ranks. Lilith seized the opportunity to send Ruby after Sam in order to complete Project Morningstar, which would ultimately turn all normal humans into breeding stock for the superhuman race. Castiel was ordered to hand Alseid over to the Host and realized he had some decisions to make._

* * *

Part of Dean wanted to accept Zachariah's offer just to get him to shut up. Sure, there was a good chance he'd still have to listen to the guy _sometimes_ , but if he was living in the lap of luxury Dean figured he'd probably care less.

But no. Dean had his principles.

"It's a good thing you were never a Girl Scout," he said when Zachariah finally stopped talking. "You would've sucked at selling cookies, and those things practically sell _themselves_." The forced-looking smile on Zachariah's face dropped away, revealing the sneer he'd probably been feeling all along.

"Listen, you cocky little _puke_! _We_ are going to rule the _world_ , and you are rapidly losing what little chance you have to get a piece of the action!" Zachariah paused, having apparently realized he'd lost his composure. He took a few slow, deep breaths, maybe thought about a meadow or a pillow made of money or whatever his happy place was, regained his inner calm. "You aren't using your God-given ability to its fullest. Joining us will do more for the world than if you spent your entire _life_ running around in tights."

"You know your suit comes from Wal-mart, right?" Ooh, direct hit. Zachariah took advantage of Dean being shackled to the wall to sock him in the jaw; when Dean looked up with the grin he saved for just this type of situation, Zachariah's left eye had developed a nervous tic.

"If you haven't changed your mind by the time I come back, I'll pluck out your eyes myself," Zachariah said, voice surprisingly calm. "Let's see you shoot your little arrows _then_."

"Won't need to see to hit your fat head," Dean spat as Zachariah retreated. The door hissed shut on a glare that made his blood run cold.

When the door slid open again about an hour later, Dean hadn't come up with a better escape plan than "be awesome, get the fuck out". It wasn't Zachariah who entered, though, but Castiel. Instead of the dorky robes he usually wore in Host sanctuaries or the suit and trench coat he tended to wear pretty much everywhere else, Castiel was wearing casual civilian clothes. Dark sunglasses and the bill of a baseball cap obscured his face.

"What the hell are you _wearing_?"

"I look silly in the field uniform," Castiel said, like _that_ was an explanation. Then he got real close to overload the electronic locks on the cuffs around Dean's wrists and Dean remembered the tight white leather that heroes (and occasionally villains) who belonged to the Holy Host tended to wear in the field. He decided as explanations went it was perfectly adequate, because wow, laughing at Castiel's skinny ass would get distracting.

A series of beeps and two pops dragged Dean away from his thoughts. Castiel had already pulled back and moved to stand in front of the door, blue-white arcs of electricity dancing between his fingers like he was getting ready to taser someone with his bare hands. Dean shook some of the life back into his hands before joining him, and they left the room without another word. Castiel knew this place like the back of his hand, and they reached the parking lot without incident.

"Hey, what about my gear?" Dean demanded when he realized where they were.

"Your equipment's already in the car," an electric blue Tesla Roadster, the Host must've _really_ liked him, "you can call your brother while we drive."

All of the smaller, more removable bits of Dean's uniform sat in a pile on the passenger seat. Dean shoved all of it but his earpiece to the floor of the car and climbed in; he barely had time to fasten his seat belt before they were peeling out of the parking garage. Castiel seemed to know what he was doing, so Dean slipped his ridiculously tiny communication device back into his ear where it belonged.

"Sharpshooter to News Feed, are you live?"

"Welcome, Sharpshooter," a computer-generated voice answered. "Stand by for identity confirmation." The line went silent for a moment while Dean slid his throwing knives back into their sheaths.

"Please repeat the following phrase: 'The longbow as a superhero weapon serves entirely to assuage the ego of the hero in question, who is clearly overcompensating'."

"How about you blow me, you jealous bitch?" Mask on--that really should've been second, but it felt kind of weird to put it back on now that Castiel had seen his face--doodads in their respective pockets, gloves on. Finally a real person replaced the automated voice on the other end of the line.

"So you didn't die after all," a scrawny-sounding guy said. This was the real News Feed, a tech wizard who provided invaluable services to certain members of the Dumbass In Tights community. These nifty little earpieces were Dean's favorite. "Heavy Metal was starting to get worried when neither of you showed up on patrol last night."

"Wait, you mean you haven't heard from Foresight either?" If Sam was missing, it probably meant that psycho Lilith finally got her creepy little hands on him while the Host were holding Dean.

"He's been radio silent since the last time you guys were out, Tuesday night. Let's see... data indicates he's still wearing his earpiece, want me to find out where he is?"

"Please." News Feed did his computer magic on the other end and rattled off the address and the fastest route from the next intersection, which Dean shared with Castiel.

"You want some backup? Pandemonium owns the factory at the address your brother's signal is coming from, they could have a lot of trouble waiting for you."

Dean considered for a moment. "Maybe a few, but bear in mind I want this to be quick and quiet. Holy Host didn't exactly give me the Presidential Suite last night."

"Understood, understood. I'll have some people meet you at the location. Lemme know if you need anything else."

"Will do. Sharpshooter out." The line went quiet, and the rest of the ride followed suit. Castiel parked the Roadster on the shoulder of the road half a block from their destination and popped the trunk; while Dean went around to get his bow and quiver out, Castiel opened the little door hiding the outlet where most cars had a gas tank and started sucking electricity out with his fingers.

"Dude, are you siphoning your own car?"

"Of course not." Dean opened his mouth to ask what Castiel was doing instead, but--"I'm siphoning _Raphael's_ car. Grunts like me have to take the bus if the Host is paying."

"Oh. Well, that makes a lot more sense."

The neighborhood they were in had been a local center of industry years ago, but these days all the factories and warehouses were either abandoned or owned by a variety of sketchy characters. The old Sunny Bread & Pastries factory fell into the latter category: whoever it belonged to on paper, it was ultimately a Pandemonium property and apt to have any number of super-powered assholes inside. Or outside. Or even coming in.

"Well, well, well. Look who finally showed up to save his partner!"

Shit. Dean recognized that voice. He turned slowly to find a fat, shiny blue guy holding Castiel by the neck.

"And look who squeezed out of jail again! Cas, wanna do your thing?"

With no further warning, the blue guy started jerking and twitching. His fingers melted to a gooey consistency, allowing Castiel to escape and remove the electrical current. The blue guy collapsed into a literal puddle and drained through the holes in the manhole cover he'd been standing on just a moment ago.

"That, Cas, is why they call him the Blooze." Castiel nearly smacked him for that one, but the look on his face was worth it. "Seriously! Look it up later, I wouldn't lie about a villain that lame."

"For a bad joke you might," which meant Castiel knew him too well. Damn.

The next obstacle came a few minutes later, when they were creeping around inside the main building and accidentally discovered the rec room. About a dozen costumed men and women looked up from the tables where they were playing board games and Uno when Dean and Castiel entered. They all followed when, a moment later, Dean and Castiel ran like hell out of there. A wall of trees shot up through the floor a hundred feet ahead like a time-lapse video of flowers growing from seeds; Dean slipped through the narrowing gap between two trunks just in time, but Castiel's shoe got caught and vanished beneath layers of rough bark within seconds of Castiel yanking his foot free.

They made it as far as the end of the hall, where a set of double doors had long since rusted shut. Behind them the wall of trees gave an almighty groan and exploded. Faced with no other option, Dean and Castiel turned to face their pursuers. Castiel zapped the guy who was responsible for the trees, if the terrible plant-themed costume was any indication, and Dean incapacitated a couple other random villains he'd never seen before. One thing Pandemonium had going for them: there were always plenty of entitled assholes with just enough power to earn themselves a spot in the club.

The hallway was too broad to effectively slow the remaining goons, and Dean knew he wasn't good enough to take four or five powered villains--assuming, of course, that Castiel could even handle the other half.

"Sharpshooter, you might wanna get out of the way," Dean's earpiece chirped. Recognizing the voice, Dean grabbed Castiel by the sleeve and darted away from the double doors. Two loud thumps shook the floor from the other side before something hard and dense slammed the doors open. A woman made of metal hit the floor and rolled to her feet in a defensive position, a familiar redhead in shades of brown and gray close behind.

"What part of 'quiet' did you not understand?!"

Anna, the redhead, rolled her eyes as she elbowed a woman dressed like a bug. "Less talking, more rescuing! Foresight's probably getting all gussied up for an evil tea party as we speak."

"Go," Castiel agreed. "We'll finish up here and join you when we can." He ran back into the fray and engaged Chen the Mighty, a skinny white kid who loved kung fu movies and could bench press an SUV. He didn't seem to be handling electricity better than anyone else, though, so Dean conceded the point and resumed the search for his brother.

* * *

Sam woke up to a back-ache, a headache, and the concern that he was going to suffocate from too much humidity. After a moment he realized that his range of movement was considerably limited as well, what with apparently being strapped to a metal platform. He raised his head as far as he could and looked around the room, taking stock of the situation. He was suspended a good forty feet in the air in a large, mostly bare room. Off to the right and in front of him a complex-looking computerized control panel was lit by several focused lamps. Ruby stood a few feet past the control panel, Ruby One watching him while Ruby Two focused on something above. Sam followed her gaze and saw a strawberry-blonde teenager sitting on a catwalk another ten feet up.

Lilith.

"Before we get started, _Sam_ , I just wanted to tell you how much we all appreciate what you're going to do for Pandemonium." He hated the way she made it sound like he was writing a check to a charity she was participating in a fundraiser for. "Lucifer needs a handsome face as well as a variety of powers if he's going to be effective, and yours is so nice it's got my Ruby fighting amongst themselves. So thank you--"

"Can it, she-demon!" Dean's voice cut in, and Sam and Lilith both looked over to see Dean on the catwalk in a shooting stance. Lilith leaned back just in time for a knock-out arrow to sail past her face. Rather than waste more ammo Dean stowed his bow and barreled down the catwalk at her.

Sam strained against his bonds, wishing he could help his brother, and the straps holding him to the platform just dissolved. He nearly overturned the entire platform in surprise, but only nearly. Moving carefully, he managed to swing the platform until he could safely leap to the broad lip of a tall cylinder full of a translucent substance that glowed a faint white and a sickly yellow by turns. Ruby were fighting each other too, now, and Sam realized Ruby Two was probably the one who'd freed him; how she managed to pull that one off when she and Ruby One shared a mind, he didn't know, but if it saved his ass he wasn't complaining.

Unfortunately the lip of the cylinder was too smooth for Sam to attach his grappling hook, so he lowered himself over the outside edge and dropped the rest of the way. The fancy shock-absorbing material in the soles of his boots took most of the abuse when he hit the floor and he was able to move to the control panel with no delay. The buttons and switches were completely unlabeled and the screen showed everything in a language Sam couldn't recognize, never mind _read_. Deciding to hope for the best, he started pressing buttons at random. Somewhere on the other side of the cylinder machinery whirred to life, but it stopped when Sam pressed some different buttons.

"No!" Lilith yelled. Sam spun and saw her fall off the catwalk, striking the suspended platform with her head before dropping into the cylinder with a subdued _ploop_.

"Foresight, move!" Dean had his bow back out and was aiming an explosive at the control panel. Sam ran for the far end of the room and heard the no-doubt expensive electronics go up in a ball of flame. When he looked back he saw Ruby Two on the floor and one end of some sort of cable in the cylinder. Ruby One was nowhere to be seen.

When he got closer Sam realized that Ruby Two was bleeding from her abdomen. A quick inspection of the wound revealed that it was more serious than he was really equipped to deal with but not necessarily fatal.

"Thanks for helping me there," he told Ruby Two as he ripped off the bottom of her shirt. He folded the cloth a few times and pressed it to her wound, earning a grimace.

"Yeah, well, didn't see the point in keeping the rest of you without the personality." Ruby Two took over putting pressure on the gash in her belly, refusing to look at Sam. He didn't know what to say to that, so he scooped her up with all due gentleness and looked at Dean, who had just made it to the floor from the catwalk.

"Sharpshooter to Heavy Metal," Dean was saying, "I've got Foresight and a tag-along. How're you guys doing? Yeah? Good. I don't think Lilith's gonna be bothering anyone for a while, but we need an ambulance for Ruby Two. Hey, I don't like her either, but she saved Foresight's bacon so we're getting her medical assistance. _Thank_ you. We'll meet you outside, Sharpshooter out."

As Dean had talked they'd started walking, following Ruby Two's weak directions for a shortcut to get to the front of the factory complex. With no distractions in the form of additional Pandemonium thugs they made it out in just a few minutes, where an ambulance and several police cruisers were already pulling in; News Feed obviously hadn't run out of influence over the city's emergency services yet.

Heavy Metal was out front, alone but for a pile of unconscious supervillains. She took off with a wave before the police could speak to her and Sam and Dean decided to do the same--Ruby would survive this close to the street, and while the police didn't actually _want_ to arrest any of them for being vigilantes it was generally easier for all sides if they made themselves scarce.

A few blocks west, Heavy Metal had joined Anna and Castiel in her van. They waited for Sam and Dean to climb in before taking off at a perfectly legal speed and Heavy Metal finally reverted to her usual form.

"You're gonna get a pretty undeserved reputation at this rate, Jo," Dean told her.

"Yeah," she agreed, "but you guys'll help if it ever tries to bite me in the ass, I'm sure."

"Of course we will! My ass would've been grass without all of you." Sam didn't need to get into Project Morningstar yet, especially when he didn't know much about it himself, but he knew he'd have to talk about it soon.

"Especially Cas here," Dean continued from the back seat. Sam turned in the middle row and looked at them both. If he didn't know any better, he'd say they were making googly eyes at each other. "If he hadn't busted me out of Zach's place I never would've made it there in time."

Castiel looked down at his hand, nearly but not quite touching Dean's. "They would've killed you when they realized you don't actually have any powers. I couldn't let that happen to you."

"My hero!" Dean fluttered his eyelashes and pretended to swoon, but he also inched his hand over and tangled his fingers with Castiel's. Sam grinned and faced forward again.

"Dude, at this rate we'll have to form an actual superhero team. I suggest we brainstorm over pizza, but I can tell you right now we're not being anybody's Sharpettes."

"Of course not, that name sucks," Dean agreed. "What about the Sharpies?"

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://architeuthis.dreamwidth.org/profile)[ **architeuthis**](http://architeuthis.dreamwidth.org/) photoshopped Castiel into [a wardrobe upgrade](http://architeuthis.dreamwidth.org/3708.html). Go forth and behold!


End file.
